Every person has his or her quirks. Things they really like, things they really don't. One of the things I really don't like is taking my car in for an oil change. There is no rational reason for it, I just can't stand taking the time to bring it in, waiting for it to be done, having them try to upsell me, all that jazz. When the Diplomat suggested working my very overdue oil change into our date Sunday, I jumped at the opportunity. I dropped off my car, then we headed up to Ikea to pick up some things for his new house.
It was a new experience to go shopping with someone who has almost total impulse control. Not being an impulse buyer is one thing, but he took it to a new level. Not only did he not buy anything because it looked cool, he didn't buy anything that wasn't on his list, even if it had a useful purpose. I wish I had that much willpower- it'd save me some money. We left right as I got the call my car was ready to be picked up. We went and got it, then headed back to his house for dinner.
For dinner, the Diplomat had made chili. Now, I love chili. It's delicious and filling. But the fact that he'd made chili shows a fundamental difference between guys and girls- guys don't think about how the food they eat on the date is going to affect them after. Beer and wings? Big greasy cheeseburger? No problem. For me (and I think most girls) on the other hand, the food I eat is directly affected by what's going to be happening later in the night. If we're just going out for dinner, I can handle a burger- the date's usually over by the time my stomach decides it hates me. With chili, though, and especially chili on what was likely to turn into an overnight date, there was no escaping it. I was going to have a stomachache later.
After we finished and were still sitting on the couch, we started making out. What is it about sitting on the couch on a date that turns almost immediately into making out? The condoms were upstairs, though, and neither of us felt like going to get them, so I knelt in front of the couch instead, if you catch my drift.
The Diplomat is quickly turning into The One Who Cooks (tm). For dessert, he'd made a butterscotch mousse. I thought the chocolate mousse was good, but this was out of this world. As I ate, he wrapped me up and started rubbing my shoulders. I love a good massage. Then that turned into him whispering in my ear.
“I want you to go upstairs, take off all your clothes, and kneel on the floor. You're going to close your eyes, put your hands behind your head, and wait for me. Do you understand?”
I absolutely did. It was even hotter this time than the last.
The entire point of going out on Sunday was to watch the first episode of the show Treme. As a thunderstorm started outside, we got glasses of red wine and cuddled back together in the bed. We laid there together while we watched. When it came to an end, with a glass of wine in me and the rain falling outside, I was ready to fall asleep.
The Diplomat went downstairs to lock the doors and turn out the lights, when the next thing I do, he was rushing up the stairs and throwing on clothes. “I'm having my first homeowner crisis,” he told me. “My basement is flooding.”
I felt terrible, but there was nothing I could do. He found the clogged drain in the backyard that was backing up into the basement, which stopped it from getting worse. Still, there was at least an inch of water in the majority of the basement. I helped him carry a few things upstairs that hadn't yet gotten wet, while he tried to figure out what to do next. Finally he came to the decision there was nothing that could be done until the morning, and we went up to bed.
The good news is after a quick romp in the morning, he was able to get what he needed at Home Depot. Getting to see first-hand the joys of homeownership definitely hasn't left me in a hurry to get there myself. Give me a 24-hour maintenance man any day.
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